


emotional affair

by hag



Category: Last Podcast on The Left (Podcast) RPF
Genre: M/M, it's just nice really... maybe a little sad too, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hag/pseuds/hag
Summary: Ben and Marcus hook up for old time's sake
Relationships: Ben Kissel/Marcus Parks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	emotional affair

Ben and Marcus had been hanging out all evening together at Ben’s apartment, having some quality bonding time to take a break from being coworkers and instead actually taking time to be friends. 

They had been watching shitty horror movies and sharing beer and pizza, and they were both a little tipsy at this point, not really paying attention to the TV anymore. Ben was animatedly telling a story about some guy he was talking to at a dive bar, gesticulating with beer still in hand, and he got a little too animated, accidentally swinging the can around too much and sloshing a considerable amount out onto Marcus’ t-shirt. 

“Oh shit! Man, I’m so sorry,” Ben said, hurriedly trying to get a napkin to try and wipe it off, pressing it into Marcus’ front to try and soak up some of the wetness. Marcus erupted into laughter: “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll just change. I know I’ve got some clothes lying around here somewhere.” 

“Right, I’ll find you something. You go wipe beer off of your chest.” 

Marcus giggled again and agreed, going to clean himself off in Ben’s bathroom. 

After doing so, he went into the bedroom to find Ben going through his own dresser. Marcus tossed his soiled shirt into a nearby hamper. 

“I can’t find anything that’s yours, which is weird because I always feel like you’re leaving all your shit here. But you can definitely wear something that’s mine,” Ben says, handing Marcus a shirt that’s definitely going to be oversized. When he slips it on, he feels like Ben is really staring at him intently. 

“Look good?” Marcus asks playfully, striking a cheeky pose, turning to look at Ben over his shoulder. 

“Yeah you look cute, Marcus.”

“Cute?! I mean I don’t know how cute a Cannibal Holocaust shirt can be.” 

“Yeah you always look kind of cute to me. Maybe charming is a better word,” Ben replies, almost too seriously. 

There’s a beat of silence, suddenly palpable tension hanging in the air. Ben takes a step closer, reaches up to run a hand down Marcus’ jaw, ghosting the pad of his thumb over Marcus’ bottom lip. 

“Ben—“ Marcus places a hand over Ben’s, partly to reciprocate the touch, but mostly to stop him. The once playful atmosphere now feels deadly serious. 

“Don’t you remember the last time we hooked up?” Ben asked like his mind was elsewhere, like he didn’t even hear Marcus, “God, that was so long ago. Like years ago now. It was back when we still only did shows here in the city…” Ben trailed off like he was mentally transporting himself back to that night. 

Marcus remembered that night too. It had been after a particularly brilliant live show, and Ben had agreed to let Marcus stay at his place instead of slogging all the way back to his own. At that point, they had hooked up a number of times over the years since they had met, but it had been a while. They were both somewhere between buzzed and hammered, and Ben had gone on and on about how well Marcus had performed that night, how effortlessly funny he had been on stage. And somehow between all of the praise, Marcus started making out with Ben before they even made it through the door. And the sex they had that night was some of the most passionate and animalistic sex Marcus had ever had in his life, still to this day. 

Hooking up with Ben had always felt safe, like they were friends who had a little special secret thing between them that no one else had to know about. It had never been a big deal, never anything that caused any problems for them outside of the bubbles of their hook-ups. But after that night, they both must have sensed a serious shift that made the sex they had feel a little bit more than just casual. And they both mutually agreed not long after that night that they were business partners now, and it would be best to not let sex disrupt or complicate that. 

But here they were again, back to how so many of their early hook-ups had started: uncertain but with palpable tension, like neither of them really wanted to say what they were hoping would happen next. Of course Marcus wanted to reciprocate Ben’s advances, but he didn’t know if it would be a good idea. 

After a few beats of charged silence, Marcus dropped his hand away, and Ben took the message, started to take a step back, looking embarrassed, almost defeated. 

“Ben—wait, it’s not that I don’t want to...,” he trailed off. 

Ben looked at the floor. “No, I understand—You’re right. We, uh… we shouldn’t.”

They both conveniently don’t say the thing they’re both actually thinking, never say the word fuck. 

Marcus was just silent, avoiding eye contact. “Hey we can still finish that movie, man. No reason not to,” Marcus tries to sound a little cheery and shift the now-awkward tone that he had set. 

Ben nodded, “Yeah, man, totally.” Marcus could hear him trying to mask the hurt and disappointment in his voice. It made Marcus’ guts twist, because he’s secretly feeling the same way. 

They went back into the living room. Ben felt further away on the couch than he had been before, like either end of the sofa was on either end of the world. 

But as they sat there watching the movie, washed in tense silence, Marcus was feeling antsy. He couldn’t stop feeling Ben’s hand on his cheek. He missed that, missed that intimacy and tender touch from him. Marcus would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that he often thought of the nights they had spent together over the years, especially now that he was feeling particularly lonely, and could only imagine Ben probably was too. 

The first time they had ever hooked-up was years ago, several shitty apartments ago (and a couple good ones too). They hadn’t known each other that long, maybe a few months. They were high, hanging out on Marcus’ bed, which was just a mattress on the floor. Marcus had, admittedly, had a bit of a crush at the time on Ben, whose outwardly loud and charming personality was the perfect foil to the subtle quirkiness of Marcus’ demeanor. He felt like Ben could light up any room he walked into, and he really did. It’s hard to ignore a 7-foot tall man with broad shoulders and a head of unruly red hair, especially one whose deep, clear voice could cut through the din of any shitty apartment party. And that night, Marcus was feeling bold, and weed-horny, and got a little handsy with Ben, who was surprisingly receptive to the advances. One thing had led to another, and that night Ben fucked Marcus on his shitty little twin-sized mattress, which they also managed to curl up together on for many more nights after that as well. But that felt like a lifetime ago. 

Now though, Marcus stole a sideways glance at Ben, just trying to glean if he was actually paying attention to the movie or if his mind was also wandering. He was certainly looking towards the TV, but it didn’t look like he was paying much attention, colors of the screen dancing across his face, but his eyes still looking distant. God, Marcus wasn’t paying attention at all anymore either, wasn’t even trying to at this point. 

Emboldened by the reminiscing of their nights spent intertwined on that twin-sized mattress, Marcus worms over to Ben on the couch, who is startled by the sudden movement. Marcus presses his cheek to Ben’s bicep, “Do you wanna cuddle?” Ben lets out a little chuckle and a soft “sure,” the stern, faraway look turning into that signature rosy-cheeked Ben Kissel smile. 

Cuddling with Ben was always one of the luxuries of their hookups; Ben always liked to play the loving boyfriend, even during casual sex. He was sweet, attentive, and surprisingly soft. Sometimes Marcus liked it a lot more than the actual sex itself, because Ben could always make him feel safe, cared for, even if Ben was sometimes playing a more submissive role. 

Ben gingerly wraps his arm around Marcus, who settles his head onto Ben’s chest. The smell of Ben was always shockingly normal, almost like a non-smell. But with his face pressed into the fabric of Ben’s t-shirt, Marcus feels like his senses are overwhelmed with the scent of Ben in a way they haven’t been for years.

“This is nice,” Marcus says, pulling his knees up to his chest and really settling into the wall of Ben’s torso, who lets out a soft “yeah,” gently rubbing circles with his thumb onto Marcus’ arm. 

The once-tense atmosphere is beginning to melt away to warm tenderness. They stay like this for the remainder of the movie, and Marcus almost wishes it wouldn’t end, so that he could stay curled into Ben, still cloaked by the blanket of the moment. 

When the credits start to roll, Marcus sits up again though, letting Ben grab the remote to turn the TV off. They sit in silence for a moment; Marcus misses Ben’s warmth. Ben turns to Marcus and suddenly their eye contact feels electric. This time, feeling driven by an unseen force, Marcus reaches up and places his hand on Ben’s cheek, and their lips meet. 

Kissing Ben feels like home. It feels like finally returning to a place you didn’t even realize you missed until you’re there and you feel like you could cry and you think that you never want to leave again. Marcus remembers the mattress on the floor and the apartment building hallway and that one time in an alley and the other time by a dumpster and that one time, or two or three or however many times, in a hotel room on tour. 

The feeling of their tongues brushing together is almost making Marcus’ head swim. He could get lost in kissing Ben. He almost thinks he could imagine doing it everyday, like a routine, like it could be normal even. Ben tastes like beer and pizza, and Marcus thinks to himself that the taste of Ben’s mouth could be his favorite taste in the world right now if it wasn’t so simultaneously disgusting (but still in an extremely hot way).

They pull apart to catch their breath, still only an inch from each other’s faces. “Fuck…” Ben pants, “I’ve missed your mouth.” Marcus could let out a whimper at that remark, but he’s trying to hold it together, placing little kisses on Ben’s jaw to try and feel a little grounded. He already feels blissed out, like he can’t believe this is really happening again. 

“C’mon, Ben, kiss me again,” Marcus says playfully, leaning back to make eye contact, but still trying to sound sultry in a tongue-in-cheek way. Ben lets out a deep, low chuckle, and kisses Marcus hard, and Marcus can’t suppress the moan that he lets out. 

Ben’s big hands practically dwarf Marcus’ little frame. And with Ben gripping his body, he feels deliciously petite and safe in Ben’s grasp. Ben firmly places both of his hands on Marcus’ hips, guiding him to squirm into his lap, straddling Ben’s thighs. 

Once he’s situated, Marcus runs his hands under Ben’s t-shirt, feeling his soft belly, the downy layer of fine hair on his torso. It feels like crossing a boundary that he didn’t know they would cross, but Ben immediately reciprocates, running his hands under Marcus’ shirt, up his back, spreading out his palms and fingers over as much of Marcus as he can. 

Marcus can feel how hard Ben is getting against him, and he’s sure Ben can tell that he’s in the same boat. He tries his best to grind his erection into Ben’s lap, which he takes notice of. “Can I?” Ben asks, cupping one of his hands between them on Marcus’ hard cock. “Yeah, baby...please...” he purrs. 

Marcus starts rocking into Ben’s hand as he rubs him over his sweatpants, and Marcus can’t contain all of the little whimpers it’s eliciting from him. He buries his face into the crook of Ben’s neck, panting and whining. 

Then Ben reaches up and twists his other hand in Marcus’ hair, causing him to let out a yelp, and pulls his head back far enough that he can smash their mouths together again. 

Ben moves his hand down from Marcus’ hair to firmly grip the back of his neck as they continue to make out. Marcus can feel sweat gather at the small of his back, and he’s shocked by how close he feels to coming. And as Ben starts to kiss down his neck to a particularly sensitive part, he suddenly grabs Ben’s wrist. “Hold on, hold on, hold on,” he pants, “I don’t want to come like this. Fuck, man, we’re both still fully clothed.” 

Ben steadies himself, “Do you wanna hook up for real then?” 

Marcus looks at Ben through half-lidded eyes, “Yeah…” he replies in a breathy, hoarse voice. Ben smirks, “Tell me what you want me to do to you then.”

“You’re being so bossy tonight.”

“I thought this was doing it for you, you’re the one about to cream your pants.” 

Marcus can’t help but laugh. “Fine… won’t you make looove to me, Ben?” he says, cheekily batting his eyelashes. 

Ben rolls his eyes, “Gross, Marcus.” Marcus continues to laugh, “I thought I was cute.” 

Ben lets out a little laugh himself, wraps his arms around Marcus tightly and pulls them together into a hug. He nuzzles Marcus’ neck, breathes in deeply. “I’ve missed you… well, missed this,” he says against the soft skin of the crook of Marcus’ neck. Marcus’ heart flutters at how sweet and soft Ben is.

Marcus turns to put his face in Ben’s unruly red hair, “I’ve missed it too. I’ve missed us like this.” He gently gives Ben’s head a little pet, placing a kiss in his hair. 

“Let’s fuck then,” Ben says pulling away to look Marcus in the eyes. Marcus nods with a big grin spread across his face, softy replies, “Ok, baby,” placing one soft kiss on Ben’s temple. 

They go to Ben’s bedroom, and Marcus immediately pulls him down onto the mattress, spreading kisses across Ben’s cheeks and jaw and neck. Rolling on top of Ben and straddling his thighs, Marcus runs his hands under Ben’s shirt, pulling it up and taking in the sight of his stomach and chest. Marcus wants to kiss every square inch of exposed flesh, running his hands up and down Ben’s abdomen. 

Ben is staring up at Marcus like he’s something really special, his eyes starry, his face in a soft smile that just slightly crinkles his round cheeks. 

Ben’s room is dark except for the warm light of street lamps outside, and the yellow glow it casts on Ben makes him look vaguely angelic, or like someone lit by candlelight. Marcus dares to think it’s almost romantic. They don’t break eye contact for what feels like a long time. And when Marcus bends down to kiss Ben again, the animalistic heat has almost entirely melted into tenderness, softness, the scratchiness of Ben’s stubble reduced only to a light tickle. It’s the kind of kiss you give your first sweetheart or your prom date during the slow dance. They almost kissed like they were in love, _which they weren’t_ , Marcus is saying to himself in his head. 

Marcus sits up and tosses off the shirt Ben had lent him, and Ben’s big hands immediately go to touch Marcus’ chest, his waist, his shoulders, his stomach, running up and down his ribcage. Marcus cups his hands over Ben’s much larger ones, which seem so sturdy and strong next to Marcus gangly, veiny hands. 

Ben groans as Marcus grinds a bit his lap. “Let me take the rest of your clothes off, baby,” Ben says, already reaching for Marcus’ waistband. 

Marcus obeys, rolling off onto his back to let Ben shuck down his sweatpants and underwear, who discards them off the side of the bed. 

One of Ben’s big hands immediately grabs Marcus’ painfully hard cock, giving it a squeeze. Marcus screws his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the skin-to-skin contact. 

Ben lets go to cup Marcus’ face in both of his hands, giving him another tender kiss. 

“Aren’t you going to get naked too, darlin’? I’m feeling a little exposed here…” Marcus says jokingly, but softly, barely speaking above a whisper. 

Ben only gives a chuckle, sitting up to take off his shirt while Marcus pulls at the drawstring on Ben’s sweatpants. 

Now both sufficiently nude, Ben reaches over to his nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. “Do you want to prep yourself?” he asks, offering the bottle to Marcus. 

“Why don’t you do it? You know… for old time’s sake.” Marcus has a huge grin on his face, and Ben smirks back, shuffling to move between Marcus’ pale, toned thighs. He places a soft kiss on the inside of one, and his mustache tickles, making Marcus giggle. 

Ben uncaps the lube and gives Marcus a singular lubed finger, who inhales sharply at the sensation. 

“You alright?” 

Marcus nods, “Just been a minute is all. And you’ve got fat fingers, man.” 

“You’re such a brat.”

Marcus giggles a bit more, but he knows Ben knows he doesn’t mean it, just happy they can maintain their playful dynamic even in the heat of the moment. 

When Ben inserts another finger, Marcus’ laugh dissolves into a soft whimper, gripping the bedspread tightly in both hands. 

Marcus throws his head back, mouth slightly parted as Ben fingers him, breathing in time with the way Ben is moving his fingers in and out, lightly scissoring them. 

“God… you look so beautiful, Marcus… so pretty,” Ben says dreamily. Marcus sits up a bit to look back at Ben, his dark eyelashes fanning out over half-life’s eyes, he nods slightly, “I know, baby,” he coos. 

Ben leans forward over Marcus’ body, closing the gap between their lips again. They kiss lazily, Marcus moving his tongue in and out of Ben’s mouth. 

“Fuck me,” Marcus finally pants out between kisses, starting to feel desperate to move to the next stage, “please…”

Ben obliges, sitting back up and pulling both his fingers out. Marcus whines at the loss of sensation. 

Lubing up his cock quickly, Ben lines himself up, “Ready?” 

Marcus nods, “Go for it, baby.”

Ben is so careful with Marcus, starting slow and steady with his thrusts. He leans down to place light kisses across Marcus’ shoulders and collarbones. Marcus grips Ben tightly, wrapping his arms around Ben’s broad shoulders, digging his nails into soft flesh, face twisted in pleasure. 

The way Ben takes care of him is like no other lover Marcus has ever had; no one has really known all of the right buttons to push with him except for Ben. And no matter how long it had been since the last time they fucked, it always felt right, like their bodies were made to slide together. But he doesn’t want this thought to color the picture of Ben in his brain too much; he’s already acutely aware of the boundary that they’ve crossed that they vowed to never cross again. But, god, the way that Ben is rolling his hips at just the right angle, picking up speed, Marcus can’t imagine Ben in any other way right now. 

As Ben punches harder and harder with his thrusts, Marcus is losing himself, openly moaning without inhibition, letting himself be pushed back and forth sloppily by the movement of Ben’s hips. 

“God, you’re so good, baby… so good for me,” he pants, knowing how much Ben loves to be praised. Marcus could always tell that that was really all Ben ever wanted: validation, to feel wanted, loved even, not just during sex, but in his life. And no matter what kind of dominant front Ben put up when they had sex, it would always melt away to revealed the soft-hearted Ben underneath. 

Ben groans, putting his forehead to Marcus’, “Look at me.” Marcus does as he’s told, making deliberate eye contact. Ben’s face is flushed a bright red, mouth parted as he pants rhythmically in time with his thrusts. He reaches between them to grab Marcus’ cock, staring intently at him to gage his reaction to every touch and squeeze and pull. It’s sloppy, but it’s definitely pushing Marcus very close to the edge. 

Marcus cranes is neck up to kiss Ben’s open mouth, panting out bits of praise between kisses, “so good… my good boy…” 

Ben lets out a broken “fuck,” ducking his head to tuck it into the crook of Marcus’ neck. “God, I love you… I love you,” he pants brokenly. 

“I love you, baby,” Marcus chokes out in response, slightly shocked by such a confession, but he responds without even thinking about it, instinctually returning the sentiment. “My baby…” Marcus mewls, “you’re my baby.” Ben practically whimpers into Marcus’ shoulder when he says that. 

He reaches up to tangle both of his hands in Ben’s hair, and he feels like he’s so close to coming. And by the way Ben is groaning and his thrusts are becoming more shallow and erratic, Marcus can tell he’s close too. 

Ben is kissing and nipping at the sensitive parts of Marcus’ neck, subconsciously tracing a constellation of pleasure points that he had figured out years ago, still whispering little “I love you”s as he goes. His warm breath tickles the soft skin on Marcus’ shoulders, who is just letting out little “mhmm”s in response, not sure he can really form full words anymore. 

At the intensity of it all, Marcus can’t contain himself and cums, brokenly calling out Ben’s name. Ben follows suit almost immediately, thrusting into him with abandon before coming and completely collapsing on top of Marcus.

They lay like this for a moment, breathing almost in sync, taking in the warmth of the moment before Ben rolls off of him, and goes to the bathroom to retrieve a warm washcloth. When he returns, he lovingly cleans Marcus off, wiping down his chest and stomach while placing a gentle kiss on Marcus’ forehead, running the washcloth over his softening cock, before wiping off his own belly. It’s such a tender moment, and even though Ben did this almost every time they had sex, it always made Marcus’ heart flutter. 

After taking the washcloth back to the bathroom, he gets back into bed with Marcus, who has climbed under the comforter, made himself comfortable among the pillows. “That was great,” Marcus offers, “haven’t lost your touch yet, Ben.” Ben just nuzzles his face into the crook Marcus’ neck, partially laying on top of him, just making an affirmative noise in response. The heaviness and warmth of Ben’s body feels like the most comforting blanket in the world to him. 

Marcus pets Ben’s hair, letting his fingers lightly touch the soft strands near the base of his neck. 

“You’re staying the night, right?” Ben asks, muffled by his face being buried in Marcus’ shoulder. Marcus can’t help but giggle a little, “Of course. When have I not?” 

Ben just nods his head, pushing his face farther into Marcus as he continues to stroke Ben’s head lovingly, “Oh… baby,” he murmurs, sounding almost sympathetic, but just barely audible. He wonders if Ben even heard him say this. 

Before long, Marcus feels himself nodding off, and by the way Ben’s breathing has changed, he thinks Ben is mostly asleep too. 

—

In the morning, Marcus will wake up curled up next to Ben, who will still be soundly asleep beside him. He’ll place a soft kiss on Ben’s forehead, secretly wishing he could always wake up like this. 

He’ll probably pull his beer-soiled shirt from the night before out of the hamper, and put it back on. Ben might wake up at this point, offer to make breakfast. Marcus will turn down this offer and say that he needs to get home. 

Ben will seem vaguely disappointed, but won’t let on too much. They won’t kiss in the morning but Marcus knows there will be a lingering hug goodbye as he walks out the door. The memory of Ben saying “I love you” will be ringing in his ears all day long. 

**Author's Note:**

> I spend a lot of time here reading the fics, but I figure I should post one of my own. You can find me as hag6 on tumblr, drop me a line


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